The Sewing Lesson
by Strati
Summary: 9 is good at a lot of things. Sewing is not one of them.


9 was intelligent. 9 was an excellent leader. 9 was intuitive. 9 was exceeding well made.

9 was absolutely awful at sewing.

5 pursed his lips and watched, slightly frustrated but mostly amused as 9 clumsily tried to maneuver the needle and thread through the thick canvas of the windmill sail they were constructing. While 9 didn't possess the know-how 5 had when it came to planning and designing, he was rather handy with wood, wire, nails, and metal. He was learning quickly how to build a solid support structure and how to make a copper trail for electricity to flow through. However, the second he got his hands on a needle and thread, all his skill went out the window. His stitches were large, uneven, and often too close to the raw edge. He just couldn't grasp bias, weaves, hems… He held a needle like 7 held her spear: in a tight fist, piercing cloth with quick stabbing motions, making his stitches crooked and far too big. Stitching like that wouldn't hold up very well against a light breeze, much less any sort of nasty weather.

5 watched 9 struggle for a moment more, but then decided a sturdy sail was more important than his own amusement, and went to go help his friend. 9 was jabbing away at the canvas and was so focused on his task he actually jumped when 5 placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"I hate to tell you this, 9, but that whole row will need to come out." 5 said with a small smile. 9 was a bit sensitive about Things He Was Bad At.

"What? _Why_?" demanded 9, his mouth hanging open in shock. Comical shock. 5 bit back a laugh and took the needle from 9's hand.

"Look, all your stitches are too big and you're not giving enough space for hem allowance. This would fall apart if we put any stress on it." 5 said pointing at 9's wretched needlework with his free hand. 9's gaze followed 5's pointed finger with a look of pure dismay on his face. "You ought to make a knot about every five stitches and you should really be using a backstitch, it's much stronger than-" 5 continued, before catching sight of 9's unhappy expression. He sighed and patted 9 on the back. "Look, I'll go ahead and do this and you can work on the framework over there."

"No." said 9 sharply, his expression impassioned and set. "No, I want to learn to do this _right_. I can't just give up every time something's difficult!"

_Learning how to wire for electricity was difficult, and you learned that in a snap. You just can't sew for crap._ Thought 5. But 5 was far too gentle a soul to say that aloud. Instead he told 9 "Yes, okay."

He gathered up a scrap of canvas big enough for the two of them to share and another needle with thread. 5 and 9 then sat cross-legged across from each other, the cloth spread out on their knees.

"Okay, so you've got your needle, yeah?" started 5, and 9 held up his needle and gave it a little joking wave. "So you need to come up from the bottom of the fabric- don't hold it like that!" 5 stopped 9 mid-stab and corrected his grip. "Hold it a little ways below the eye with your thumb and pointer like this here-" he arranged 9's longer, more delicately formed fingers on the needle "And put your other fingers here. He then cupped his hand around 9's and guided him to push the tip of the needle delicately though the canvas. "You don't need to jab at the cloth like you've been doing. It's not going to run away."

He took 9 through a few more stitches, going slow and explaining as he went. About ten stitches in, after he showed nine how to sew a sturdy little knot, he noticed 9 seemed to be paying more attention to 5's hands and the way they were holding his own than the needle and thread. He kept shifting his fingers so that they would glance ever so softly across 5's palm or thumb, and he was definitely closer to 5 than he had been when they started the lesson. It felt… nice. If there was one thing everyone in the group had in common, it was that they all thrived on physical contact. Touching and cuddling came as naturally as talking and breathing did. 5 could barely remember a time when he hadn't slept curled up next to 2 or 7 or the Twins…

Thinking of 2 made 5's clockwork heart ache a little, and so he redirected his attention back to 9. The younger creature's lips were pursed and his optics were narrowed in concentration. He was sewing very, very slowly with smooth and almost dainty movements. His stitches were still a bit crooked, but at least they were smaller and he was using the correct stitch this time around. He noticed 5 watching him and gave a small smile coupled with an arch wink. 5 felt cheeks tingle (the ragdoll approximation of a blush) and he smiled back.

It was something that they did. 9 would give 5 a slightly rakish smile, occasionally coupled with a wink or a touch on the hand or shoulder, and 5 would smile shyly and sometimes touch back. It was… just playing. Yes, they were playing.

Right?

5 made a few more stitches out of restlessness before setting his needle aside to watch 9, correcting him as he went. It was a little mesmerizing, watching 9's odd little stitches accumulate slowly, the dark thread forming a wavering line that reminded 5 a bit of a trail of dark marching ants, moving cautiously across flat white sand.

"5?"

5 had barely noticed he had spaced out and gave his head a little shake to pull himself back to the real world. "Yes, what is it?"

"I need you to move your hand." Said 9, with only the barest trace of coyness lacing his voice. 5 glanced down at the appendage in question and realized with a rush of bashfulness that, after leaning forward with a balancing hand on 9's knee to point out something, he had simply never removed his hand. It had been at least seven or eight minutes since then and he had left his hand on 9's leg the _whole time_ and now he was so _embarrassed _and didn't know _why_ and oh, maker, he _still_ hadn't taken his hand away and 9 was _looking_ at him funny and-

"Uh, 5? Hellooo, 5?" 9 said again, ducking his head to look 5 in the optics.

"Oh. Oh! Sorry, sorry. I guess I wasn't paying attention." Stammered 5, hastily yanking his hand away and tucking it against his chest. "Sorry."

"It's alright." Soothed 9 in an oddly distracted tone. He slowly, slowly made a few more stitches (he was getting a little better, 5 noted) his expression contemplative and his eyes restlessly flicking back up to 5's face every few seconds. He finished the row and sewed in a tight knot. He retied his thread and started a new row, saying "You can put it back, you know. I don't mind."

5 snapped out of picking at his finger joints and stared. "What now?"

"You can put your hand back now. I'm done with that part."

"I… uhm…" 5 lifted his hand, let it hang in the air a few seconds, and put it down again in his lap. 9 smiled and put down his needle. In typical 9 'do-before-you-think style', he lunged forward and took hold of 5's hands. One he planted firmly back on his knee, the other he held in his own. He grinned triumphantly, as though he had just won something. 5 sat stiffly, his insides feeling a bit overheated and his face tickling. Leave it to 9 to leap without considering the modesty of his poor friend. He felt flustered and odd; the sight and feel of 9's fingers twined with his own left him feeling strangely breathless and giddy, but at the same time he felt off balance and whirling. He wasn't sure if it was a good feeling or not. 9 stroked the back of 5's hand with a thumb, and a tickling, devilish sensation zipped all the way up from 5's fingertips, up his arm, and over his shoulder where it seemed to fan out and tickle him all over.

_That_ was a good feeling.

5's silence must have discomfited 9, as his playful smile faltered and he spoke softly, edging apologetic.

"Is this okay?" he asked. "Is this… do you, I mean, could you want this?" 9 was confident in almost everything he did, but now he seemed lost, even a little pleading. He started to pull his hand away, but 5 caught it and wrapped his hand fully around 9's. They fit together very well, he noted, like hand machined cogs made for each other.

"Yes." He said. "I want it."


End file.
